Unhooded
by Alexandra Irene Spears
Summary: Sylvester Sneekly decides to try a legal way to have the Pitstop fortune.
1. Chapter 1

Unhooded

by Alexandra Spears

 _Disclaimer: Penelope Pitstop and related characters belong to Hanna-Barbera. I'm just borrowing them!_

* * *

It was summer, and at the back of the Pitstop estate, Penelope Pitstop was lounging next to the pool, wearing a pink one-piece swimswuit that went to mid-thigh, reading a book. The young woman was unaware that she was being watched.

Sylvester Sneekly was the one watching her as he stood near one of the back doors on the terrace. Amazing how she could be put through all those Goldbergian traps and yet not seem to be concerned, he thought. It was as if she was able to brush off those experiences as easily as she might swat away a fly. Then again, her father had been the type to encourage his daughter to just put bad things out of her mind.

Penelope's parents had died a few years ago in a train accident, when Penelope was a teenager. Mr. Pitstop had been a good friend of Sylvester's and had specifically stated in his will that if something were to happen to Penelope, Sylvester would inherit the Pitstop fortune, since there were no other close relatives.

Sylvester, upon seeing just how much Penelope was worth, had decided to try to hasten things along there. To that end, he'd come up with a disguise and an alter ego-the Hooded Claw. The problem was, even though Penelope seemed like a typical dumb blonde, she really wasn't that stupid; in fact, she was very resourceful. On top of that, she was friends with a group of seven midgets calling themselves the Ant Hill Mob, and they tended to interfere.

It was amazing that law enforcement hadn't caught up with him by now, given the number of times he'd messed up-and badly. Granted, they had no idea who he really was. Still, it was only a matter of time. How much jail time did attempted murder get someone, anyway? And multiple counts, at that!

It was rather hot out here. Sylvester took his pince-nez glasses off his long nose, feeling slight relief. Of course, wearing a three-piece suit out here didn't help.

Penelope turned her head at that moment and saw him standing there. "Sylvester, why don't you come have a swim?" she called in that Southern accent of hers.

He wondered if she knew how long he'd been standing there watching her. "I think I might," he said after a beat.

He went across the grounds to the cabana, where swimwear was stored. He swiftly changed to swimwear, then went over to the pool, sat down at the edge, and dunked his feet. It felt so much better out here.

From where he sat, he studied his charge. She did not treat him like a servant, but as a trusted friend, almost like an uncle. Like always, he pushed that from his thoughts-or tried to. He had to view her as an obstacle between him and vast wealth. The problem was, every so often what conscience he had would stab at him and remind him that he at least had a home at the Pitstop estate. He had been orphaned at a young age himself, raised in an orphanage, and not treated very well. He'd managed to put himself through school. He had been determined to succeed and become fabulously wealthy, and for him that meant no romantic entanglements and very few friends. Penelope's father had been a very friendly type, and Sylvester had been genuinely sad at his passing.

Penelope had matured greatly over the past few years, he had to admit. She'd been a typical spoiled rich girl and Sylvester had felt that she didn't deserve all that wealth, especially since she hadn't worked for it. But in the past couple of years, she'd taken on different charitable causes and had become a pillar in the community.

Her long blond hair was down. Sylvester couldn't help but admire it. She was the epitome of a Southern belle-cute, fun, and gracious. As far as he knew, she had never seriously dated anyone, as she was too busy with her charities and the like, and she couldn't seem to find a man that suited her. Since men were just about beating down the door for a chance at one date with her, she could easily afford to take her time and choose.

Sylvester had never dated anyone himself, as he'd been too busy trying to pull himself out of poverty. While he found women attractive as any average man would, he'd forced himself to shut down any of those thoughts. Somehow, though, Penelope, whether she was aware of it or not, had been penetrating that wall he'd put up. It might be her close proximity; they did live in the same home, but at opposite ends of the mansion, so that it might well be different addresses.

Penelope got up, put her book down, and sat beside him at the edge of the pool. She dunked her small feet into the water. "Nice and refreshing, isn't it, Sylvester?" she asked.

"Yes, it is, my dear," he said in a neutral tone. Inwardly, though, he thought he felt a kind of heat building up. Their relationship had always been platonic (at least to her, at any rate), and he wondered if she had any idea at all what effect she had been having on him lately.

As Sylvester-when he was not in Hooded Claw mode-he was always kind to Penelope, thoughtful, and generous. To him it was all an act. Or at least it had been until recently. He found himself wondering if it had all been just an act this entire time.

Which was his real self-Sylvester the loyal guardian, or the criminal known as the Hooded Claw?

"You look like you're miles away, Sylvester," Penelope said.

Sylvester blinked. "Just lost in thought, my dear," he said. A thought came to him. "So, Penelope...why did you turn down that date with Joseph?"

"I want a man who's mature," she replied. She turned her head and looked him in the eyes as she said it. Sylvester fought to keep his composure. What was it about this girl that made it difficult, if not impossible?

"I see," he said, keeping his tone even.

Penelope stood up. "I need to check my calendar, there are so many things to do tomorrow," she sighed.

Sylvester watched as she strode into the mansion. He was attracted to her, blast it! An idea came to his mind, one he'd never thought of.

What if he married Penelope himself? As her husband, he would have access to her fortune. Why was he sticking his neck out, risking some serious legal consequences (not to mention potential injury), instead of doing this in a perfectly legal way?

He'd never considered marriage to her before; it went back to the wall he'd put up. Certainly there was nothing forbidding such a union. Thinking back, he'd always felt relieved whenever Penelope turned down a suitor.

It was time the Hooded Claw went into retirement. At least for now.

* * *

That evening, Penelope was sitting at a desk in the spacious den, writing a letter. She was dressed in a modest long-sleeved dress that went to just below the knee; she was more or less an old-fashioned girl who wasn't into the current flapper fashion. Penelope was the kind of girl who could make wearing a flour sack look like the latest trend.

Sylvester entered the room and sat down in an armchair. "So, Penelope-is your schedule busy tomorrow?" he asked.

Penelope turned and looked at him with those bright blue eyes. "Actually, Sylvester, I have nothing going on tomorrow," she said. "Did you have something in mind?"

She seemed to be able to read him like a book; yet she seemed to have no inkling that he was not only her guardian, but her arch-nemesis as well. Perhaps she only saw what she wanted to see. "Well...I was thinking about a picnic, down by the river tomorrow afternoon," he suggested.

"That would be lovely!" she exclaimed. "Will there be others joining us?"

"Um...no," Sylvester admitted.

He thought she seemed pleased at that. "Well, it should be all right, since you're a gentleman," she said.

Sylvester certainly wasn't feeling gentlemanly at that point. "It's a public place," he added.

"I'm sure we'll have a lovely time," said Penelope.

He nodded. "Well, I am going to turn in, and I'll see you in the morning," he said.

"Good night, Sylvester." She went back to her writing.

Sylvester walked down the halls of the enormous Pitstop mansion until he came to his own suite. Going into the dressing room, he gazed at his reflection in the vanity. Much to his surprise, a wave of guilt washed over him. "I've tried to kill her how many times, and here I want to marry her," he muttered. "She must never know who the Hooded Claw really is."

He was seeing Penelope as a person, a girl he was falling in love with, instead of an obstacle between him and money. At the same time, she was a means to him being enormously wealthy.

He had absolutely no experience with women, so powerful had his drive to become wealthy been. Not even loose women. No entanglements, nothing to stand in his way. Penelope was digging up that part of him he'd buried a long time ago.

Sylvester changed into pajamas and got into bed. His dreams that night were about Penelope-and then he had a nightmare about the Hooded Claw coming between him and Penelope.


	2. Chapter 2

The following afternoon, Penelope and Sylvester loaded a picnic basket into Penelope's roadster. Penelope decided to let Sylvester drive.

"I just hope that Hooded Claw doesn't decide to spoil our picnic," she said.

"I don't think he will, don't you worry," Sylvester said in a reassuring tone. To Penelope he sounded very confident-which, to her, was comforting.

As they drove along, Penelope sneaked a few glances at Sylvester, who looked intent on the road. He had been almost a father figure to her since the deaths of her parents a few years back. At the same time he didn't interfere, just more or less let her go her own way. She didn't really need a guardian anymore, since she was of age, but he had been a good friend of her father's and besides, she valued his advice.

Sylvester was in his early thirties and from what Penelope had seen thus far, he was a very intelligent man. She oftentimes wondered why he didn't find a woman and settle down, and she'd never asked him, figuring it improper to pry in such personal matters. She felt that he'd be ideal as a husband and eventually a father-he certainly seemed the type-so the fact that he never seemed to have a date had her wondering.

They arrived at their destination. Here and there along the riverbank were couples and families enjoying the warm summer day. Sylvester hoisted the picnic basket out of the roadster while Penelope spread a blanket on the ground near the riverbank. They then sat down on the blanket.

Penelope looked around a little. A little ways off, there were a few boys wearing knickers and rolling hoops. There were people wading in the river. Others sat against trees, absorbed in books.

Sylvester spotted a flower nearby, plucked it, and gave it to her. "For you, Miss Penelope," he said with a bit of a smile.

"Thank you kindly, Sylvester," Penelope said sweetly.

For the next hour or so, they had lunch and talked. Rarely had Penelope had any long conversations with Sylvester. Usually he was busy with something. The more he talked that day, the more she realized that the kind of man she was looking for would be someone like Sylvester-level-headed, mature, not someone constantly out looking for a good time. Someone steady and stable, someone dependable.

It seemed that just about all the men her age only cared about a good time. She couldn't care less about jazz or speakeasies; she'd been raised to be a proper young lady, even though nowadays people seemed to be going a bit wild.

At the back of her mind was the idea that the Hooded Claw would crash their picnic. Still, little by little, she managed to relax. Sylvester was here. He wouldn't let anything happen to her.

As she discreetly studied her companion, she gave the matter of marriage some thought. She was in her early twenties and she thought it was high time she settled down. But what did Sylvester really think of her? Did he think of her as a kind of adopted niece? Somehow she didn't really think so. He was so reserved, it was a bit hard to read him at times.

"Did you have a good time, Penelope?" he asked.

"Yes, I did, thank you," she replied.

Then he did something a bit unexpected. He picked up her hand and brushed his lips across the back of it. Penelope smiled and blushed a little as she put her hand to her chest. "Why, Sylvester," she said.

He smiled at her in return. It was a warm smile, something Penelope was sure she'd never seen on his face, in all the years she'd known him.

* * *

At home, Penelope was writing in her diary. That had been a date she and Sylvester had been on; it had been a bit more than a friendly outing. Sylvester had been every bit the gentleman with her. Had they been totally alone, Penelope was almost sure that one or both of them might have encouraged things to go pretty far.

With that in mind, she had to make sure things stayed proper. Admittedly, she felt a bit uneasy now, being under the same roof as Sylvester, but then again, her mansion was so big that it shouldn't be an issue. People had servants who lived on the same property.

She wondered when-or if-he would ask her to marry him. He'd certainly looked besotted while they were sitting near the river. She already knew what her answer would be.

It would definitely be "yes."

Unlike those college boys, Sylvester clearly wasn't after her money. They'd known each other for a while. She also wanted a man who would be faithful to her, and he certainly seemed to be that kind; she wasn't interested in being the main woman in some man's harem.

She finished her diary entry, then changed into her nightgown and got into bed.

Oddly enough, one of her dreams was about the Hooded Claw competing with Sylvester for her affections.


	3. Chapter 3

That night, Sylvester was pacing around his bedroom, his thoughts in a swirl. It was clear to him that she liked him. The way a girl would like a boy. He was sure that he liked the idea. The Hooded Claw side of him, however, was seeking to take advantage of this somehow. All the times he'd had her in those traps, not once did he try to get fresh with her. His thinking hadn't been along those lines; he had merely viewed her as an obstacle, nothing more. People were obstacles or the means to an end. The Bully Brothers, for example-he merely tolerated them because they were willing to help him. They were in jail right now, however, due to a burglary they'd managed to bungle. Fortunately the burglary hadn't been his idea, or they would've ratted him out.

Yet another reason to retire the Hooded Claw. One of these days someone was going to slip up really badly. If he did manage to kill Penelope and it got out that he was the guilty party, he would forfeit the inheritance. He'd be sitting in prison, very likely on Death Row.

It just wasn't worth it. It was becoming more and more clear to him.

Marrying her was a viable option. Of course she would want children, but she could handle that part. Just have a nanny or governess around, and that would take care of things. On the plus side, he'd have heirs.

He reached into his closet and extracted his Hooded Claw duds. His thought was to put them on and sneak into her room.

He shook his head as he tossed them back into the closet. Bad idea. She'd scream and wake the servants. On top of that, he'd be unmasked-and all bets would be off.

Sylvester sat down at his desk and rested his forehead on his hands. Blast it, he was attracted to her, and the feeling was mutual. The wall he'd put up was being pulled down by that slip of a girl. That was why he was considering marrying her in the first place, and telling himself it was just so he'd be able to enjoy the perks that went along with marrying a super-rich girl.

Let her be smitten, he thought after a few minutes. It would make it all the easier for him to convince her to marry him. She was just so naive. It was hard to believe she hadn't figured out his game yet. Again, she seemed to only see what she wanted to see.

It would just be easier on him if it were one-sided. Even though he'd never had the experience, he figured that he didn't need to be in love with her to have the physical pleasure.

That's all it would be for him-just physical. And let the chips fall where they might.

* * *

A few days later, Penelope was out and about, either in meetings with her charities or cutting some ribbon or another. Sylvester took this opportunity to head to a pricey jeweler's shop. As her guardian, he did have an allowance, and since he wasn't spending it on the Bully Brothers (whenever he did remember to pay them; more often than not he conveniently "forgot"), he had the money for a good-sized diamond ring.

After about an hour or so of looking and thinking about what Penelope would want (why did it even matter, he asked himself continually), he finally settled on a decent-sized diamond. Not too big, definitely not too small, and not too gaudy. Sylvester, of course, was polite to the clerk; after all, he had to keep up appearances.

The ring was placed in a nice box. Sylvester paid for it, carefully slipped it into the pocket of his jacket, and got into his automobile.

* * *

Penelope was home for dinner that evening. Sylvester sat down next to her at the table, as he had been doing for the past few days, instead of sitting at the opposite end. "I do declare, I am just tired from today," she sighed as she leaned back a bit in her chair.

Sylvester bit back a frown. She had no idea what it was to be tired. She had never been deprived of sleep or anything as a child as punishment for some infraction. She had been disciplined by her parents, that was true enough, but she had never experienced the brutality that he had. Penelope had no idea what it was like, staying up to study to get good grades and get out of poverty. "It must be tiring, dealing with those people all day," he said in a neutral tone.

"A lot of it is so boring, but it's something that needs to be done," she said.

He raised an eyebrow slightly. He'd never heard the slightest bit of complaint from her before. Perhaps she wasn't quite so shallow as he'd initially thought. He'd certainly had his share of unpleasant tasks over the years, things that needed to be done. "You have to keep up appearances," he suggested.

"It's not just appearances. I genuinely do care," she said. "I guess it's hearing them talk about the numbers, and all the planning. You can't just show up somewhere, it needs to be all planned out."

Sylvester thought that intriguing. Penelope was doing this for altruistic reasons, it would seem. Sylvester couldn't afford to be altruistic.

"Speaking of planning," he cut in, "I think we may have to plan a wedding." He was no romantic, so he was just winging it.

She perked up at the mention of a wedding. "Whose wedding?"

"Ours-if you say yes." He took out the ring box and slid it towards her.

Her blue eyes widened. "Sylvester-do you mean-?" She opened the box, and those eyes lit up as she saw the ring sparkling within.

"Yes, I mean it. Will you marry me?"

"Yes, yes I will!" she exclaimed.

Sylvester removed the ring from the box and slid it onto her left ring finger. "We'll get a wedding planner," he said with a grin. Inwardly, he felt a huge sense of relief. She had not turned him down; she was enthusiastic about the whole idea.

"I'd like to get married as soon as possible. How about September?" she asked.

Sylvester smiled. "That sounds good," he said. That was only a couple of months away. He'd been hoping that she wouldn't go for a long engagement.


	4. Chapter 4

One morning in mid-September, Penelope woke up and realized that today was her and Sylvester's wedding day. For the past couple of months, she'd been working with a wedding planner. Sylvester hadn't seemed all that interested in the planning-and who could blame him?-but that didn't bother Penelope, for weddings tended to be more about the bride anyway. All Sylvester had to do was wait at the altar.

"My goodness, so many things to do before ten o'clock!" she exclaimed, upon seeing that it was six in the morning. She was much too excited to eat. The wedding was to take place right there on the grounds of the Pitstop Estate. The Ant Hill Mob would also be attending. Clyde was going to give her away, and the rest of them would be ushers (and hopefully Dum Dum remembered what to do).

Penelope bathed herself carefully, and when she was done, her good friend Annette, who was her maid of honor, helped her into her pure-white wedding dress. A professional hairdresser was on hand to do her hair, and another woman was there to do Penelope's make-up.

Once Penelope and Annette were alone, Annette whispered some things in her ear about what to expect that night. Her older sister had gotten married not too long ago, and she'd told Annette a few things. Penelope blushed. "Are you serious?" she asked.

"That's what Colette told me," Annette said with a shrug. "But don't worry, Penelope. I'm sure things will be all right."

"I think they will," Penelope agreed.

* * *

The back of Pitstop Estate was filled with people. A lot of them were photographers and writers for various society columns. An altar had been set up in the back. Penelope was suddenly afraid that the Hooded Claw would crash her wedding, even though she hadn't so much as seen him in the last couple of months, and there were all these people around. She stood gazing out the window to the sun room.

"Let's get you married off, Penelope," the diminutive Clyde said as he offered up his elbow.

"I'm just a bit nervous, Clyde," she admitted.

"Don't worry about a t'ing, Penelope," Clyde said in his gruff voice. "If that old Hooded Claw shows up, we'll give him what-for."

"Thanks ever so ever," she said with a smile. They might be a bit rough-and-tumble and clumsy, but Clyde and his boys were, in their own way, gentlemen.

The music started, and as Clyde escorted Penelope down the aisle, the guests rose up out of their seats. Standing a small distance away, at the altar, was Sylvester, dressed in a tuxedo, and he was smiling.

Penelope felt as if she were floating on a cloud as she made her way down the aisle. Once she reached the altar, Sylvester held out his hand, and she took it and stood next to him. They both faced the minister who was officiating.

Penelope and Sylvester went through the motions and finally they said their vows. Penelope smiled widely as Sylvester slid her wedding ring onto her finger. There was a smile on his face as well, but it was almost unreadable. She merely assumed that this was a happy day for him as well. Of course, there were times when he seemed downright reclusive and he might be uncomfortable in crowds.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," the minister said grandly. "You may now kiss your bride."

Sylvester took her into his arms and gave her a sweet kiss on her lips. The guests applauded and cheered.

* * *

The reception took place in the ballroom, and since Prohibition was in effect, there was no liquor. No doubt some guests might have sneaked some in, though, and they had ingenious ways of doing so.

Penelope wasn't concerned. She was having a good time dancing with her new husband, who seemed a bit shy on the dance floor.

The dancing gave way to lunch at around noon. Sylvester and Penelope sat at the bridal table with their wedding party. "You look lovely, my dear," Sylvester murmured to Penelope.

"Why thank you. And you look very handsome," Penelope replied in a soft voice.

"I'm just not used to being the center of attention," Sylvester murmured.

"That's all right," Penelope said as she patted his left hand, her fingers grazing the gold of his wedding band.

After lunch, Sylvester and Penelope did the cake-cutting, then there was more dancing and much more carrying on. This lasted for a couple of hours; then it was time for the newlyweds to leave for their honeymoon. They would be on a ship bound for Paris. Penelope knew a lot of French, so she would be right at home there-and would be able to translate for Sylvester.

Penelope and Sylvester changed into travelling clothes in different rooms. Then they dashed out to the automobile that was waiting to take them to the dock, and as they ran they were showered with rice.

* * *

Sylvester easily lifted the slight Penelope into his arms and carried her over the threshold as they entered their cabin on board the ship. "I'm sorry I'm not into a lot of romance," he said as he set her on her feet.

"That's quite all right, Sylvester," Penelope assured him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, sugar, I'm going to go and change."

Sylvester nodded.

Penelope took a satchel into the bathroom with her. She changed into a negligee and combed out her golden hair. She was a bit nervous about what was to come. From what she understood, he was just as new to this, and she hoped he'd know what to do. Her mother had given her The Talk not too long before her death, so she wasn't completely clueless.

When she emerged back into the bedroom, Sylvester was sitting at the foot of the king-sized bed, clad in just a robe. "Penelope, if you want to wait to-do this, maybe once we've gotten a bit used to each other...," he said, clearly a bit nervous himself.

"Not really," she replied as she sat down next to him.

"Let's just take our time then," said Sylvester.


	5. Chapter 5

The sunlight shining through the port hole was what awakened Sylvester the following morning. He felt slightly sore from last night, but it wasn't a bad kind of soreness.

Penelope was cuddled up to him, her head on his left shoulder, her left arm across him, still asleep. As he recalled, she'd thoroughly enjoyed it last night. So had he, for that matter.

He gazed up at the ceiling and sighed, not really wanting to wake his wife. It hadn't been just physical pleasure last night. He felt like he'd bonded with her. He'd closed himself off all this time, and last night he'd opened himself-somewhat-to someone.

He'd gone from wanting to kill her to wanting to protect her. He was entangled with her.

But it was all right. He would still benefit.

Penelope stirred. Sylvester lightly stroked her hair. "Morning, my dear," he said.

Her eyes fluttered open. For a moment she seemed to wonder where she was, and what she was doing in bed with a man-and then she seemed to recall that they'd gotten married yesterday. "Morning, sugar," she said in an affectionate tone as she reached up and kissed his lips.

* * *

Later that morning, Sylvester and Penelope were walking around on the first-class deck together, her hand holding the inside of his elbow. At the stern, they looked over the railing together. For a brief moment, the thought flashed through his mind that he could easily push her over the railing. He shook his head slightly to get rid of that thought. No more of that. She was his wife now...and he was falling in love with her.

"I haven't seen that dreadful Hooded Claw in months and I wonder if maybe he got caught in one of his own traps," Penelope commented.

"I hardly think he'd be able to reach you out here," Sylvester said, keeping his tone neutral. He gently took Penelope by her upper arms and looked into her eyes. "I won't let him do anything to you. So don't you worry about that. Let's just enjoy our trip, shall we?"

She smiled and slid her hands up to his shoulders. Discreetly glancing around and making sure no one else was around, he allowed her to kiss him; he wasn't into public displays of affection. In private they could let go and do as they liked, but in public there needed to be some restraint.

After the kiss, they resumed their walk around the ship. Penelope seemed so content, to be with him. She seemed to truly love him. He'd always been wary of others trying to use him, so he'd turned the tables over the years and just used other people first. He could relax around his new wife.

Except she was still unaware that he had been the Hooded Claw. He wasn't sure if he should ever tell her. He was coming to realize that he had something good here, and he didn't want to ruin it. If she really did love him, he didn't want to lose that. He was really sticking his neck out here.

* * *

Sylvester and Penelope spent a wonderful two weeks in Paris, and after that, they took another ship back to America, so their honeymoon had lasted a little over a month. "Home sweet home," Penelope declared as they entered the Pitstop mansion. "My suite-or rather our suite-should be done by now." Penelope's suite was to have been remodeled and redecorated during their trip, as it would be for the two of them, and she didn't think Sylvester wanted everything in pink.

Sylvester had managed to relax during their trip. It had gone so well. He and Penelope had had numerous romantic nights out and enjoyed the places, sights, and sounds of Paris. He'd gotten to know his young wife a lot better. While he'd had a good time, he was starting to feel a lot of guilt over his past actions. "Let's go take a look at it," he said, to stop that particular train of thought.

Penelope took his hand, and they went into their suite. It had been done in warm and neutral tones. The bedroom was dominated by a king-sized four-poster bed. "It's gorgeous!" Penelope exclaimed.

"I agree," said Sylvester.

Penelope yawned. "I'm also a bit tired out from our trip, I think I'm going to try it out."

Sylvester watched as Penelope changed into a nightgown. She certainly wasn't shy in front of him. "I think I'll join you, I'm also worn out," he said as he went to a chest of drawers and found out where his nightshirts were being stored.

"I sure seem to tire easily lately," Penelope remarked.

* * *

The following week, Penelope had an appointment. She didn't say where, but that she'd tell Sylvester about it when she got back.

Sylvester went into the closet in his old suite and unlocked a trunk he kept in there. In the trunk were his Hooded Claw duds. Why he was keeping them, he had no idea, but he thought it best if he burned them.

He put them on-the green hat, the purple domino mask, the green cloak-and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror.

Suddenly, he heard a feminine gasp in the doorway. Turning around, he saw Penelope, back from whatever appointment she had. "The Hooded Claw! How did you get in here?" she demanded.

Sylvester heaved a sigh. Might as well get it over with, come what would. "Penelope, my dear," he said as he stretched his hand out and caressed her cheek.

She swatted his hand away. "I'm a married woman, if you don't mind," she snapped.

"I'm fully well aware of that," he said.

She happened to look down at his left hand. "That's my husband's wedding band. What are you doing with it? Where's Sylvester?"

He gently grasped her by the shoulders. "I'm Sylvester," he said. He took off the hat and mask.

He watched her face. The pieces were flying together in her mind, he could tell. "Why didn't I figure it out?" she said. "You couldn't kill me, so you married me for my fortune! That's it, isn't it?" She shook his hands off her shoulders. "And with a baby on the way-!"

Sylvester flung the cloak off. "A baby?" So that would explain a few things-why she felt tired, why she was sometimes nauseous, and why she'd been eating a bit more.

From what he understood, pregnant women also tended to be more emotional. And in Penelope's case, this was going to be combined with her anger at what she'd just found out about her husband. He tried to take her hands.

"Don't touch me! Don't come anywhere near me!" she cried. She turned and ran out of the room.

"Blast...," Sylvester murmured. He wondered what she would do. Perhaps he should let her calm down for a while. Would she file for divorce? He truly hoped not, especially since they were going to have a baby. Things could all come out-it could get pretty messy.


	6. Chapter 6

Penelope lay sobbing on the bed in the suite she shared with Sylvester. It all made sense now. How else would the Hooded Claw know where to find her, whenever she went different places? It certainly explained why he had wanted to do away with her.

She couldn't fathom it-the man who had tried to kill her was the father of her unborn child. She had married him, had known him intimately-it was beyond belief! How could he have tricked her so? She felt so used, and more than a little foolish. She had married him because she loved him and she had been so sure that he wasn't after anything. How wrong could she be!

The door opened. Penelope looked up, saw Sylvester enter the room. "Go away, Sylvester," she sobbed. "Or should I say Hooded Claw?"

"Penelope-I want to talk to you," he said as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "If you'll let me explain."

"What is there to explain? You've been after my fortune this entire time, you sneak!"

"I want you to listen to me, Penelope," Sylvester said in a stern voice, which caught her attention. "I am no longer the Hooded Claw. That is over."

"You don't really love me, do you?" she asked as she lay there and hugged a pillow.

She felt his hand gently stroke her hair, didn't make a move to stop him. "At first, I guess you could say not," he said. "Penelope-I-I've fallen for you since then. Don't you think, in that month we were alone together, I would have had numerous opportunities to do you in? No witnesses?"

This was true. "Why didn't you?"

"Because I love you," she heard him choke out. Knowing that he'd never really been one to say how he felt, she knew that he was having difficulty saying it. And that made more of an impact on her.

"I don't know if I can trust you, Sylvester," she said as she sat up and faced her husband. "What will our child think...its father tried to kill me numerous times?"

"I wouldn't say anything to our child, personally," said Sylvester. "But if it were ever to come up, perhaps you could set an example by forgiving me? I do want your forgiveness, Penelope." He sighed and looked down between his knees. "What are you going to do? Am I to be thrown out?"

Penelope sat there and studied him. "You know what I really ought to do," she said slowly. "I ought to make you pack your bags and leave, and make sure you're cut off without a cent."

She was sure she saw a tear coming to his eye, which touched her, as he was hardly the emotional type. "I guess I'll go pack," he said with a sigh as he stood up. "There's no gaining your trust, is there?"

"Sylvester, you broke my trust," she said as more tears came to her eyes. "You betrayed me. You betrayed my parents-you told them you'd look after me, and look what you did."

"I know, Penelope, and I truly regret what I did," Sylvester said as he stood there and gazed down at her. "I'm sorry. But I am not sorry for the wonderful month and a half we've spent together. Those were truly the happiest days of my life, Penelope. You have no idea what a hard life I had growing up." He sighed. "I blew it." He turned to leave.

Penelope reached out and tugged at his hand, and he sat back down. "I said what I _ought_ to do, not what I was _going_ to do," she told him. "I don't want a divorce. But I want to be able to trust you, Sylvester. This isn't something that's easy to forgive, you understand?"

Sylvester nodded.

"I will not press any charges against you. I am willing to forgive you," she said. "You will need to regain my trust. And I don't know that it's going to be easy. The only reason I'm giving you another chance is because you had every opportunity, as you said, yet you didn't do anything. I think there's hope for you. But I will give you this warning-if you ever do anything like this again, I declare you will be in terrible trouble, Mr. Sneekly. _Terrible_ trouble."

Penelope also knew that there might be a scandal should she throw him out. As far as she knew, his only crimes were against her personally. She did not want her child to grow up in the midst of a scandal; she wished to protect the Pitstop name even though she had taken on Sylvester's name. If he was truly reforming, she wanted to give him every chance. She believed in second chances, and admittedly, it was hard for her to do this, given what he'd done in the past.

"Mrs. Sneekly, I promise you, that is done and over with. I am going to burn that costume," Sylvester said emphatically. "If you'd like to watch me do it?"

She stared at him for a few moments. Then she nodded.

He took her hands and gently pulled her to her feet. She still wasn't completely sure she could trust him. Then again, he'd had ample opportunity, as he'd pointed out, to get rid of her, certainly before she was in the family way. Another thought came to her. "How do I know you won't dispose of me after our baby is born?" she asked. It could be that he wanted an heir, but didn't want her.

"Our child is going to need its mother, Penelope," Sylvester replied. "I know what it's like to grow up without a mother. And a father, for that matter."

Penelope blinked as he led her down the halls of the mansion. He'd never talked about his past; all she knew was that he'd been orphaned at an early age. "Did you have a guardian or other relatives?" she asked.

"I was in an orphanage," he replied tersely. "Think beatings for the slightest infraction, and going without food as punishment." He stopped and turned and studied her. "Something you're not familiar with, Penelope. Once I was old enough, I got out of there, I worked my way to where I was. Your father befriended me and helped me."

"Did you have anything to do with my parents' deaths?"

"No," Sylvester said emphatically. "You know the results of the investigation; it was an accident."

"I just wondered, since you were so intent on getting rid of me."

"At the time you just seemed to be a silly, spoiled rich girl," Sylvester said as he looked up, remembering. "You were never in the situation I was in, and it infuriated me. Oh, you've settled down a bit, you're not so flighty now. But when the wills were read and it turned out that should something happen to you, the wealth would go to me...and when I saw how much it was..."

"You were welcome to stay here, you benefitted," Penelope said.

"I wanted it all to myself," Sylvester admitted. "I grew up with nothing. I was determined that I would be rich, and I pushed myself. And I didn't know if one day you'd turn me out. I had a taste of wealth and I wanted more."

"So what made you decide you wanted to marry little ol' me?"

"I fell in love with you," he replied simply. He gently cupped her face in his hands and threaded his long fingers through her hair. She could see sincerity in his eyes. "Penelope...I'm sorry about my past misdeeds. It was greed." He lightly kissed her lips. "Now let's go burn those clothes. I want to put this all behind us."

* * *

There was a fireplace in Sylvester's old suite. He lit a fire, and once the flames were high enough, he balled up his Hooded Claw outfit and threw it in. Penelope watched as the clothes caught on fire. As far as she was concerned, she could say good-bye forever to the Hooded Claw. Sylvester certainly seemed repentant.

They lounged on Sylvester's old bed together, watching the flames. "I've been doing so much thinking the past several months, Penelope," Sylvester said quietly. "I promise you, you don't have anything to worry about. That villain is gone."

"It's going to take some time, Sylvester. I was so shocked to find out you were that scoundrel."

He turned onto his side and lightly stroked her cheek, then kissed her. He was always so gentle with her; he'd shown her plenty of his gentle side since the day they were married. Hopefully it was true; hopefully Jekyll was here to stay and Hyde was gone forever.


End file.
